


Black Cherries

by mogwai_do



Category: Angel: the Series, Firefly
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 15:58:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mogwai_do/pseuds/mogwai_do
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That Special Hell may not be as bad a fate as some would have you think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Cherries

He can practically see Inara's crossed-arm, foot-tapping impatience; Kaylee's happy to wait, she thinks it's sweet, but then Kaylee's a true romantic at heart - it drives him nuts sometimes. It's at times like this though that he really values Jayne's uncomplicated and mercenary thinking that just doesn't care what they're doing here or why as long as they get paid. Mal wishes things were that simple for him, shut in the small bathroom, the others behind the door and for all the good it does him they could be half a galaxy away.

In trying to keep some distance he tripped backwards and now he's fallen in the bathtub which is thankfully empty, wet clothes are the last thing he needs right now. The cold porcelain is uncomfortable, but at least he didn't bang his head - which might have been a blessing actually.

Lindsey's leaning over him, wedged between Mal’s dangling legs, fingers splayed on Mal's knees. The hands are too deft, too strong to disguise, but with the tattoos masked, Lindsay makes a not unconvincing woman. His already long lashes have been lengthened; eyeliner makes his eyes seem that much paler by contrast; the smoothly shaven cheeks are oddly fascinating; and his lips are the colour of black cherries.

Lindsey smells like cherries too as he leans closer until he’s directly above Mal. It probably has nothing to do with the fruit and everything to do with the local moonshine, but Lindsey's not drunk and neither is Mal, which is why he can't explain, even to himself, why he does what he does. Why his fingers delve into the neatly arranged bob, darker with dye now, but showing fair underneath; why Lindsey's mouth tastes of cherries and a local spice that's hotter than chilli; why they bypass kissing entirely in favour of thrusting tongues and scraping teeth.

The bathtub is as hard and uncomfortable as he is and Lindsey must be finding it difficult to maintain his balance when he's leaning so far over. Mal's fingers in his hair won't let him pull back even if he wanted to, but there's no sign that he does.

Briefly Mal thinks he hears Inara's small fists banging angrily on the door, but he dismisses it. All he knows for sure as he tightens his grip, tugging Lindsey half into the bath with him, as those strong fingers clutch at his shoulders for balance, as the cherry lipstick smears around both their mouths as they tongue-fuck hard and hungrily, is that he is oh so very definitely going to that Special Hell. Still Lindsey says that's where he came from so maybe - maybe it ain't such a bad thing after all.

 

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> This was entirely a dream, although if I remember correctly Methos was waiting with the others as well, his part in this remains a mystery, maybe I’ll investigate it at some point.


End file.
